A Noteworthy Boheme at Opera San Jose

Opera San Jose has produced a superb La Boheme. That being
said, and this being my 123rd review of this opera (perhaps I exaggerate), I thought I would work directly from my notes.

Act I

paintings! – Gauguin
(Rousseau?)

This is a
Marcello with ambition! His paintings are enormous: a Red Sea epic (referred to
in the libretto) and a tropical-looking work resembling the work of the two
painters above (Lori Scheper-Kesel, prop master).

“I am doggone cold!” –
Marcello

This
supertitle has general director Larry Hancock’s wit all over it.

blind Colline

An
interesting choice, with a couple “sight gags” to it, but given the
philosopher’s love of books, the questions arise: Are they Braille? Does
someone read to him? Ramsey’s bass-baritone, as usual, is elegant, and the
sunglasses add a nice hipsterish quality.

Schaunard – velvet
(parrot story)

Brian James
Myer’s baritone is a joy to listen to, and he plays the musician Schaunard with
a smooth joie de vivre, particularly when relating the demise of the pooped Polly.
Is there some secret mother lode of male voices that OSJ is mining? Because…
damn!

ADD pace of opening
scene

Puccini’s
first act is lightning-paced, an asset certainly helped by stage director
Michael Shell and the Garret Boys, who sometimes resemble the Marx Bros. The
comedy, which provides such a lovely framework for the later tragedy, is an
underrated element of the opera. The grilling of landlord Benoit (Carl King) is
brilliant.

How does he finish an
article for The Beaver in five minutes?

Further
proof that Rodolfo is a big fat poser. Predictably, he gets writer’s block. (If
only some woman would knock at the door.)

bathtub desk

Another score for the
propmaster, this one triples as a rowboat.

key-hide good

A tasty
little piece of comedy, Rodolfo pocketing Mimi’s housekey in the hopes of
keeping her around for a while. Well done.

mask production, Kirk,
resume song

The resume
song is “Che gelida manina,” and most guys do this on a first meeting: here’s
who I am, here’s what I do (“sonno poeto”), and I’d love it if you would hire
me as your boyfriend. But what’s up with Kirk Dougherty’s voice? He’s been
pretty spinto since he arrived in 2014, and pleasantly so, but here his voice
trends lyric in spectacular fashion, his top notes filling the hall with
ringing sound. The source seems to be a focus on the mask, using the sinal
cavity as a resonating chamber (a la Sgr. Pavarotti), which you can see by
noting how his mouth stays somewhat small (and often smiling), even on higher
notes.

“The first kiss of
April is mine” (rise)

“Mi
chiamano Mimi” turns a lovely modal shift at the appearance of spring, and
climbs into this beautiful line, referring to Mimi’s position at the top of the
building. A gorgeous image.

Mimi – high note at
end

As Mimi and
Rodolfo sing the final line of “O soave fanciulla” from outside the garret, the
soprano is supposed to take the higher note, with the tenor supplying a lower
harmony. Tenors being tenors, this doesn’t often happen. So bravo, Dougherty,
for letting the lady have her glory.

﻿

Vanessa Becerra (Musetta) and Matthew Hanscom (Marcello).

Act II

Set applause!

Kim A.
Tolman’s Café Momus, heavy on the trompe l’oeil, is immaculate and lovely,
inspiring one of those only-in-opera ovations for inanimate objects.

costumes

The shift
to a WWI time-setting allowed designer Alina Bokovikova a whole new palette of
colors, and she took due advantage, filling the stage with lively fabrics. The
gent in the top hat and purple coat resembled Willie Wonka. Parpignol (Yungbae
Yang) appeared as half-harlequin, half-Pierrot. But Musetta’s green coat took
top honors. The stage direction in the scene was also superb, creating an
ever-lively scene.

Soprano
Vanessa Becerra and conductor Joseph Marcheso took Musetta’s Waltz at a sultry
pace, accentuating the sexiness and utterly pulling it off. It also seemed to
being out the cross lines that Mimi sings from her table, which are beautiful
additions.

Marcello, while
Musetta is ridding herself of old man, rehearsing conversations

Baritone
Matthew Hanscom, who just has “it” when it comes to stage presence, spent much
of the Waltz in the doorway of the Café, practicing conversations with Musetta.
It was a beautiful bit of background acting (with an assist to director Shell),
and revealed the passion that Marcello still held for his off-and-on lover,
despite his bitter protestations.

﻿

Matthew Hanscom (Marcello) and Sylvia Lee (Mimi).

Act III

Spooky tree limbs

An
effective addition from set designer Tolman, a third of a treetop looming over
the gates.

music in found songs –
workers at the gate

Using the
calls of the workers is an intriguing Puccinian device, and foretells Tosca, in
which overheard cantatas, church masses and shepherd’s songs are drafted into
the score.

resonation – Mimi’s
top notes

Sylvia
Lee’s soprano doesn’t shine as much as it did in last fall’s Lucia di
Lammermoor (she’s singing Mimi a bit more darkly), but her top notes have this remarkable
way of expanding and filling the hall like fairy dust. It’s an extraordinary
effect.

wingman-girlfriend
element

There’s
something very touching about the conversation between Mimi and Marcello. Being
in love with someone’s best friend allows you to tell them things you could
tell no one else.

Marcello – presence

As
mentioned earlier, but evident especially in this scene, given the size
difference with the petite Lee.

talking about
someone’s impending death in front of them

A
fascinating scenario, as set up by Puccini and his librettists, Luigi Illica
and Giuseppe Giacosa.

“Because of me, this
disease will kill her.” – Rodolfo

This note
has a personal aspect. As an author, I realize that I lead a tough life, and
that not everyone can come along with me. With Rodolfo, his poverty, combined
with his love for a woman with failing health, puts him in quite an emotional
vise.

﻿

Kirk Dougherty (Rodolfo) and Sylvia Lee (Mimi).

Act IV

gesso!

The scene opens with Marcello
applying this white primer to his canvas, which is what an artist quite literally
does when he wants a clean slate.

Schaunard’s got some
moves!

I suspect
Brian James Myer has had some dance classes. Nice fandango!

frat party! flying
papers

The
goofiness that precedes Mimi’s ominous appearance is well-done, including the
answer to the question, How does one conduct a duel with a blind man? (The
answer: wrassling.) The tossing of Rodolfo’s manuscript pages is a fun,
confetti-ish effect, and also leaves Mimi to die over a sea of Rodolfo’s words.

K & S – chemistry

This is always
somewhat inexplicable, but Dougherty and Lee simply look good together, and
interact well. Lee has the advantage of a small frame, which allows her to
portray Mimi’s frailty. It would be interesting to see how this plays out with
the alternate Mimi, Julie Adams, who is both taller and larger of voice.

Through April 30, California Theater, 345 South First St,
San Jose. operasj.org, 408/437-4450.

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of 19 novels, including
Operaville and Gabriella’s Voice. He has been reviewing opera since 1983.
Operaville was recently named the 8th-ranked opera blog in the
world.

About Me

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of seventeen novels, including The Popcorn Girl and Billy Saddle. His poetry has appeared in more than 100 journals, and he works as a competitions judge for Writer's Digest. He lives in San Jose, and plays drums for the San Francisco rock band Exit Wonderland.